


Win Some Lose Some

by XylophoneCat



Series: Tumblr Prompts [8]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 2018 Stanley Cup Playoffs, Established Relationship, M/M, Mild Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 15:54:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15100070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XylophoneCat/pseuds/XylophoneCat
Summary: Sometimes Claude doesn't like Sid all that much. Sid understands. Set after Round One - Game One.





	Win Some Lose Some

Before the playoffs start they agree to take a break, just for the series, to preserve each other’s sanity. No worrying about allegiances - just hockey.

It takes Sid all of five minutes after getting in after game one to fish out his phone and call Claude. He gets sent to voicemail three times, and hangs up three times without leaving a message. He’s just debating calling a fourth time when his phone vibrates in his hand.

“I was driving, asshole,” Claude says, his voice tired, but with a tense bite under the fatigue. “Let me in. Please.”

“I thought we weren’t doing this,” Sid says, but goes to open the door for him anyway. After all, he called first.

With the door closed behind them, Claude leans heavily into Sid, like Sid is the only thing in the world that could keep him upright. Sid can’t help his arms coming up to wrap around his waist.

“I don’t care,” Claude says, muffled from where he’s shoved his face into the crook of Sid’s neck. When Sid presses his lips to Claude’s hair, he can smell the shampoo from the PPG showers; a nondescript soapiness undercut with the sharp salt of anxious sweat. “I feel like shit, and for some reason you make me feel better.”

He says it like an accusation, and Sid can’t help but laugh softly at him.

“I’m just the worst, eh?”

“The most horrible,” Claude agrees, and his fingers dig hard into the cut of Sid’s hips.

“I’m not sorry,” Sid says later. They’re in bed, Claude using the broad muscle of his chest as an extra pillow.

“I don’t want you to be,” Claude snaps, though most of the heat is lost in a jaw splitting yawn. “I want you to play fucking good hockey. And then when we beat your faces in on Friday, it’ll feel five times as good.”

“Whatever you want.”

“I want the Stanley Cup,” Claude murmurs, and he’s drifting off now. Sid chuckles and kisses the top of his head, breathes him in deep.

“I don’t know if I can do much about that,” he says. Claude makes a grumpy little noise and Sid can’t help but kiss him again.

“Lose the next four games.”

“We’ll see.”

**Author's Note:**

> On tumblr @fourthlinefic


End file.
